Of Cigarettes, Pavements and General Idiocy
by Prosper-the-XVIII
Summary: When an accident with Greased Lightning (and Danny) leaves Rizzo in a coma, the Pinks and T-Birds all decide they hate each other. All, except Rizz and Kenickie. While 'Romeo and Juliet' defy the odds, Sandy, Danny, Frenchy, Doody, Jan, Marty and the gang are faced with a tough descision. What's more important; Love or friendship?
1. Chapter 1

"Rizz, you do realize that's disgusting?" Sandy edged away from Rizzo, who had a newly-lit cigarette between her fingers. Rizzo stepped closer to Sandy, putting her arm round the Australian blonde's shoulder.  
"Still same old Sandra Dee, huh?" Rizzo batted her long eyelashes, but as she noticed Sandy's grimace, she swore under her breath, muttering "Aw, fine..." and threw her cigarette to the concrete, grinding it under the heel of her black patent stiletto. "Frenchy, would ya shuddup already?" She looked behind her to the strawberry blonde, who was still shaking her hips a little as she walked and humming under her breath.

Their final day of high school was drawing to a close, and now the trio were headed back to Frenchy's for Girly Night In: Part Two – minus Jan, Marty and Rizzo's undignified and slightly embarrassing performance of prancing around in her underwear and singing 'Look at me, I'm Sandra Dee' at the top of her lungs – Frenchy a little tearful, Rizzo just plain hyper and Sandy a slightly surprised at her friends' out-of-character behavior.  
"Sorry," Frenchy shrugged, upping her pace so that she was beside Sandy, Rizzo pounding the gravel in front of them. Frenchy turned to Sandy and noticed that the blonde was shivering a little in her skimpy black leather. The sidewalk had gotten slimmer, and as Frenchy shrugged off her Pink Ladies jacket and draped it around Sandy's shoulders, she watched Rizzo stumble out into the middle of the road, lighting up another cigarette now that she was away enough from Sandy and still rambling, not seeming to care that no one was really listening to her.

With Jan around, Rizz never got a word in edgeways - the girl talked too much, especially when she was on a sugar high. Come to think of it, that was just about all the time - and now that it was just the three of them, she asked the question that had been annoying her for a while now. "Hey, Sandy, Frenchy, if you guys are Beauty School Dropout and Sandra Dee, then what does that make me?"  
"I don't know. Never really thought about it – RIZZ! MOVE!" Rizzo turned around as she heard Sandy screaming her name, Frenchy standing looking terrified, but not before Greased Lightning slammed into her back.

* * *

Anyone else – well, not Jan, Sandy, Marty or Doody, but anyone other than that – and Frenchy may have found the scene playing out in front of her funny in a slightly sadistic way, but it was Rizzo. Her best friend; Frenchy might even have gone so far as to say that Rizz was her other half, the pair had known each other from kindergarten. So as Rizzo hit off the windscreen of Greased Lightning and skidded about seven feet before landing in a crumpled heap, naturally Frenchy was practically crapping herself and close to tears.  
"Rizz!" Frenchy sprinted over to Rizzo, who was lain spread-eagled with her left arm and right leg bent at awkward angles, as fast as her three-inch heels and irritatingly short stature would allow her and gently shook the semi-conscious brunette's shoulders, tears streaming down her cheeks and her mascara running horribly. "Are ya hurt?" D'oh! Stupid question. Rizzo bravely attempted to raise her head, but she grimaced as she tried and gave in.  
"What does it...l-look like?"  
To be honest, Rizzo did look dreadful. One eye was bruising already and swollen shut, her petite nose shattered and blood running freely from her crimson rosebud lips. Put this together with the enormous graze down her cheek, and her face alone looked an absolute state. As well as this, the skin of her arms had been cut to ribbons, her limbs were still bending where they weren't supposed to be and her jeans were ripped up the length of her injured leg, exposing mottled, open flesh oozing blood grotesquely.  
"Rizz, hun, try not to talk, you'll just make it hurt worse. Wait, where'd Sandy go?"

* * *

"Danny! You-" Sandy's rage was too explosive to contain for long enough to come up with an insult. She stared at her soon-to-be-ex boyfriend, who was investigating the damage done to his windscreen by Rizzo's brief impact. There was actually quite a big crack in it where Rizzo's ass had half gone through the glass, but Sandy was too annoyed and shaken to care. "You nearly killed Rizzo and all you're worried about is that damn car!"  
"She wasn't looking what was behind her!" Danny rounded on her, scowling, who folded her arms over her chest and stood her ground.  
"Kenickie's gonna kill you," she said flatly, hazarding a glance over to Frenchy, who her arms around Rizzo's now-unconscious body. "You know that he still thinks she's knocked up."  
"Well, she ain't, so I'm fine."  
"Would you just shut up and do something, you self-absorbed asshole?!"

* * *

Pain had taken hold of Rizzo's mind the second the car had slammed into her, crushing her shoulder blades and throwing her into the cold glass of the windshield. She had felt her arm snap as she had made first impact with Greased Lightning, and as she bounced off and skidded, her leg had done much the same and she had felt blood run down her face.

She couldn't open one eye, and what she could see through the other was enough to make her want to vomit. She wanted to scream, but the blood in her mouth had stopped her. Her left forearm, from elbow to wrist, no longer formed a straight line. It was bent and twisted into an angle like a flattened 'V'. Her arm twisted so that her palm faced out, the sharp ends of broken bone threatened to push through her flesh. Judging by the pain in her leg, which was much the same, it was in a far worse state.

She heard Frenchy's voice slapping her out of her blind panic. "Rizzo! Are ya hurt?" Frenchy's generally pretty low intelligence tended to go straight out the window in a crisis. If there had been time, if she could stand, if the agony wasn't clawing at her slim body, if she had just been plain Rizzo, not the injured, terrified teenager she was at the moment, she would have rolled her eyes at Frenchy's idiocy, elbowed her and probably mocked the hell out of her, but she wasn't. Instead, she settled on the few words she could make leave her lips. "What does it...l-look like?"  
The agony seized hold of her as soon as the sentence was out in the open. The pain was so bad that her eyes rolled up in her head and she passed out...


	2. Chapter 2

**Thank you for your reviews! I must say, for this particular stupid plot bunny you can blame my Soc. Ed. techer and his god awful road safety lesson (the dodgy adverts about people getting killed in car accidents you get here in Scotland are bad enough; I feel sorry for those of you who see the Australian ones on a regular basis - two words. Mental. Scarring.) I have to post these two wonderful parodies of 'Summer Nights' and 'Grease is the Word' that my amazing friend ILOVECHIPS texted me:  
(after reading ch. 1 of this)  
Tell me more,  
Tell me more,  
Like, does Rizzo survive?  
Tell me more,  
Tell me more,  
Like does Danny get a fine?**

**And for no reason other than a ridiculous sugar high...  
I got chiiips, they're multiplying,  
And I'm loooosing control,  
Cause the aroma they're supplying,  
It's eppiiicc!  
Don't need to shape up,  
Don't need a man,  
Cuz my heart is set on them!  
They're the ones that I want!**

**As you can see, my friends are almost as weird as yours truly. The following chapter is mainly phonecalls between Frenchy and Marty, Danny and Kenickie then Kenickie and Sandy, but in this and the following chapters, the italics that are in first person and mainly sarcasm or moaning about the pitch of Frenchy's voice are what's going on in Rizzo's head. And I promise that I won't kill Rizz for those who may have been panicking about that.  
N.B. The dialogue isn't lazy typing. It's my attempt at replicating their accents, though I'm sorry if it doesn't work. I may use the word 'damn' too much, but I do the same with 'bloody' in James Bond fics. It's just a habit.**

* * *

"Okay, Frenchy, run that by me again...Greased Lightning...Rizzo...mm-hmm - Jan! Cut that out!...Sorry, Jan's stress eating or something...yeah, I thought she'd given it up too - Jan, shuddup, I'm on the phone! Anyway, Rizzo...Yeowch! Is she...Oh my GAWD! She's what?...Yeah, we'll be right there...Nope, no car...Well, we're just going to have to damn walk, aren't we?...'K, we'll be there in...well, I don't know how long it's actually gonna take, but we'll see you when we can. Bye!" Marty slammed down the phone, her hands visibly shaking and her face totally drained of color. She turned around, noticing Jan about two inches away from her. The ditzy brunette had what was left of a Twinkie in her hand, and judging by the position of her head, she had been trying to listen in on Marty and Frenchy's conversation. Marty rounded on her, scowling. "Gawd, Jan, that couldn't have waited?"  
"Sorry! I just wanted to see what you guys were on about. What's up with Rizzo?" Jan tossed her hair off her shoulder, staring at Marty with a slightly worried look in her eye.  
"How much of that did you hear?"  
"Just everything that you said and Frenchy commenting on how I eat too much-"  
"That's because you do." Marty's tone was flat as she started trying to cram her feet into the fist pair of shoes she could actually find, which incidentally belonged to her mother, owing to her difficulty getting them on.  
"Where the heck are you going?"  
"You're coming too. Hospital."  
"What, now? This'd better be serious 'cuz the only shoes I brought with me are massive heels." Jan resentfully picked up her purse and disentangeld her sunglasses from her hair before shoving them up the bridge of her nose. Marty was halfway out the door before Jan managed to catch up with her.  
"Jan, the point of shoes is that ya can actually walk in 'em. Look, that thing with Frenchy; her and Sandy are both at the hospital. Rizz got hit by Greased Lightning, she's got a broken leg, busted wrist and a bunch of other junk like that, but she should be okay. But there's a huge problem 'cuz she went unconscious and then it escelated from there and now she's in a coma. And they're - they're worrying that she's gonna wind up brain dead unless she wakes up soon. I don't know about you, but I gotta go see her."  
"And that's why I was trying to listen in! Okay, I'm coming too, but can't we get a cab?"  
"Jan!"

"Kenickie, this is my fault how?"  
"Hmm, let's see...YOU JUST HIT MY GIRLFRIEND WITH A DAMN CAR!" Next time he was anywhere near the idiot, Kenickie was going to literally strangle Danny. Screaming down the phone at people wasn't something that he did often, but he was miaking a serious exception here. "I lend you the thing for half a damn hour and you kill the windscreen and nearly Rizz at the same time! What is WRONG with you!?"  
"Look, I explained. She wasn't paying attention; talking to the other two and lighting a ciggie or something. I didn't get a chance to stop. Sandy and the police already chewed me out, I don't need you doing it too."  
"You deserve it! Is she okay?"  
"Look, Kenickie, I don't know. She's knocked out or something and she busted her leg or something, but that's all I could see. If it makes you feel any better, she's at the hospital. The pinks are all over there now, I think you could too."  
"This is not over, Danny!"

* * *

"Kenickie, I've explained all I can. She's broken a couple of bones and she's in a coma but apart from that she's fine. Well, she should be eventually..." Sandy tailed off, partly when she realized that the payphone she was using was eating her change and partly because she didn't want to say what came next. Owing to the fact that Kenickie  
a) Had trouble understanding her accent (the same could be said for her when it came to him and just about everyone else)  
and b) Only ever listened to about half of a sentence anyway,  
she knew that telling him would completely break his heart.  
"Sandy, what is it? There's something else, tell me!" She heard the tears he was gulping back turning his voice husky. She sighed heavily. The day hadn't been brillinat for her either; breaking up with her boyfried for the scond time in a month and then sitting staring at one of her best friends about as unconscious as you can get had never been too high up on her agenda, and now knowing the news she was going to have to break to Kenickie was killing her. She had to put this as lightly as possible.  
"Kenicke, it gets bad there. Her head was knocked around a bit and now that she's slipped down into a coma...it's too early to tell, but she might have ended up with minor brain damage and even if she didn't, there's a really really slim chance of her going brain dead if she's out for too long and not monitored properly. I'm really sorry."  
She heard him start crying quietly on the other end of the line. It hurt leaving him like that, but slowly, she put down the phone.

* * *

"Rizzo, look, I know you might not be able to hear me and I know you can't say anything back, but I just need to say this. No matter what happens, no matter how you - end up, I'll always love you. Please, beautiful, I need you to wake up. Just smile for me or something, let me know you're listening."

_I can hear ya fine, and I could say something if I damn well wanted to, Kenickie, if I could just get this damn thing outta my throat. I love ya too, but I AM awake. I just can't find the damn lightswitch. _

"Hey, Rizz. How are you feeling?"

_Been better, Sandra Dee, been better. God, my arm hurts. And I can't move. Shouldn't I be able to move?_

"Rizzo, you can hear me, right? You need to prove that they're wrong. The doctors. I mean, they're saying that you're going to go retarded if you're out for too long, but it ain't true, is it?"

_Quit asking if I can hear you! If you don't think I can then don't bother asking! What's wrong anyway? I'm fine. Okay, bit sore here and there, but apart from that...God, Frenchy, that PITCH! I mean, you're bad enough anyway, when you've been crying you sound like you've been inhaling helium. And what do you mean retarded? Out from what? Quit talking like this and just tell me what's up with me!_

"Rizz, you are gonna be okay, aren't you?"

_Jan, I've heard three year olds sound less pathetic. I'm fine right now, so quit asking! Okay, judging by what you keep going on about, I'm not, but would ya just tell me what the hell happened! You're scaring me to death here!_


	3. Chapter 3

**Okay, this is going way better than I expected. Being my first Grease fic, I was worried about making people a bit OOC (well, difficult with Rizzo, due to the fact that she can't actually speak at the moment but everyone else) but it seems to be going fine. Okay, this may seem OOC to start, but let's face it, his best friend hit his girlfriend with a car and there's a chance that she could die, so I think that Kenickie needs to have a 'moment'. A continuation of ILOVECHIPS's Summer Nights parody...  
Tell me more,  
Tell me more,  
Like does Danny get killed?  
Tell me more,  
Tell me more,  
Like is Rizzo retarded?  
(Didn't rhyme this time, but you try and come up with a word that rhymes with 'retarded'**

**All the stupid stuff the Pinks get up to is based on me and a few of my friends' stupidity during Maths. **

* * *

"Look, God, if you're there, if you can be bothered listening, it's Kenickie. I don't think you know me; I don't go to church and I've done any guy's share of bad stuff, but I really need you to help me out," Kenickie stared into the empty sink of the hospital's guys restroom, his hands pressed against the hard enamel. He flicked a glance upwards at the mirror, taking in his mussed up hair and disshelved appearance. He had to admit, him and the Pinks all hadn't showered in about three days and this was only the second time in that space of time that he'd bothered to change his clothes - the only reason he'd left Rizzo's side to go and do _that _was because Frenchy had started complaining about his BO and attacking him with perfume. He looked back down at the faucet and continued muttering under his breath, full aware that he must look totally crazy; "Look, my girlfriend; her name's Betty Rizzo, she got hit by a car and she's in a coma. They think that she might be brain-damaged and she might end up a vegetable even if she's not. Please, God, don't let that happen. If she is already then can you turn it back or something? Or at least make it that she remembers me and the rest of the Pinks? I need her; I don't want her to die. Just...please, help me out. If you do, I'm gonna clean up my act, I'll start going to church, whatever, just get Rizz through this. Thanks...Oh, amen and all that stuff too..."

* * *

"Guys...Hepl!..." Frenchy stammered, accidentally half-throttling herself with her scarf in a botched attempt at loosening the knot in it.

"Alright, someone get a video camera," Jan snorted, falling about laughing. The mood was maybe a little lighter among the Pinks - not including Rizzo, as at present moment in time it was pretty impossible to tell - as Rizz had been moved out of a private room overnight onto a ward, owing to the fact that her condition had seemingly stableized when they left. Frenchy was still a bit jumpy, still being worried senseless about Rizz, but was starting to get back to her usual self.

"Thanks for that," Frenchy eventually managed to draw breath, then turned to Sandy, who had changed into white shorts and a blue tank top the previous day, her hair wrestled into short braids and was currently staring out the window. "Hey, you wanna know how Jan ended up with her fringe?"

"French, don't even think about it-"

"I told her that if she closed scissors around her hair it would curl it."

"God! Did she believe you?" Sandy turned round, a slight ghost of a smile on he face.

Frenchy was practically wetting herself laughing. "Yes!"

* * *

Rizzo was getting pretty fed up of being left completely motionless but conscious in her own way at the same time. She knew that there wasn't something clogging up her throat any more, and there wasn't as many annoying bleeping machines attached to her; just a few wires in her arm and something up her nose. She had been simply lying and listening to Sandy, Frenchy and Jan's sugar-fuelled conversation and wishing that Kenickie would turn up and bring back just maybe a touch of sanity to the room, but that was when she noticed a small explosion of agony in her ankle as she tried to twitch her foot. Wait, tried...and it had worked. She could move. She could feel. Bingo! Now if she could only...YES! Eyes open. She turned her head slightly, and said slowly; "Em, guys? A little help?"

Where the hell did that voice come from? Gritty and somewhat nasal - tube up her nose, remember? - but at least she was talking again. Thank god.

Kenickie walked back in just as Sandy ran outside to get a nurse. "Rizz!" She barely had time to do anything between him speaking and then running up to her, hugging her and then kissing her lips firmly, lingering for a good five minutes. She had never enjoyed the taste of his lips more. Now that he had moved her a bit, everything hurt, but she didn't care. She couldn't move he arm or leg, and her swollen eye was just a slit, but she wasn't bothered again. Though it may sound tacky, she was just happy to be alive


End file.
